


With the Fire That You Started in Me

by RiseoftheBlossom



Series: Commissions [8]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Christmas Presents, Christmas Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heartbreak, Making Love, Mentions of miscarriage, Merry Christmas, New Beginnings, Rainbow Baby, Stillbirth, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28262535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiseoftheBlossom/pseuds/RiseoftheBlossom
Summary: Personally, she believed Christmas was a time to celebrate the year passed, even one as horrific as hers and during that celebration, they closed the door on it, promising themselves a fresh start.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Madara
Series: Commissions [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751041
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	With the Fire That You Started in Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Banoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banoffee/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Banoffee! Love, Shikabootay <3
> 
> WARNING: Mentions of stillbirth.

It’d been a suck-y year. A suck-y year filled with nothing but pain and _bullshit_ and she couldn’t wait for it to be over already.

Which was why Sakura was decorating early.

Her lover wasn’t one for Christmas or any of the holidays in general, however he must have agreed with her that the year needed to end on a good note, because when she got out of the shower following her draining shift at the hospital, it was to a living room filled with bags and boxes of decorations, accompanied by a bottle of wine, chocolates and a note stating he would return shortly with takeout.

He wasn’t the most sentimental man, wasn’t overly emotional or one to constantly shower her with vocal affection. But he was always there when she needed him to be, and he read her cues so magnificently, so even if she _couldn’t_ express how she was feeling, he knew anyway. That was so much better than being in a lovey-dovey relationship, Sakura believed wholeheartedly.

Smiling peacefully up at the seven foot tree that towered over her, she turned on the lights that’d taken way too long to wind around it. It sparkled and twinkled wonderfully, complemented by the fire to the left of the room as they both added to the warmth of the festive season. The whole time her mind was too busy to focus on the shitty things that’d happened that year, though she knew that was his plan.

Sakura reached for her glass of wine and took a hearty sip, foot tapping to the beat of the music playing in the background and assessing her snowy white and glittery silver decorations, all the while mentally preparing herself for the intense strategies she had to come up with to find just the right place for each of them.

That was the best part about Christmas, she’d always thought. How it took a person’s mind off the bad things that’d happened, that it signified the ending of a year but was quickly followed with a _bang_ of a new one. Personally, she believed Christmas was a time to celebrate the year passed, even one as horrific as hers and during that celebration, they closed the door on it, promising themselves a fresh start.

It was when she was halfway done with the tree that her lover returned with the promising scent of her favourite takeout, awakening her suddenly angered stomach as it growled in response, reminding Sakura that she’d yet to eat that day.

“In here,” she called, stepping back from the tree to survey her hard work so far.

Situated in the bay window that overlooked the front garden, the tree brightened the living room considerably with its greatness. Even her lover had to stop and admire it for several moments after entering the room, the bright white lights reflecting in his dark eyes.

“Thank you for all of this, Madara,” she told him earnestly before he had the chance to speak. “I know you don’t really celebrate Christmas, so this means a lot to me. Thank you.”

“It is one of your favourite holidays of the year,” was all he replied with, like it was so simple to understand.

Yes, it was. Followed closely by her favourite season – the season of rebirth. Of new beginnings.

Sighing, she turned into Madara when he approached, grateful for the arm that came around her. He was much taller than her, by at least eight inches, and Sakura revelled in the safety she found when held by him, his body easily covering hers so that not an inch was on display or vulnerable. She’d needed that more than she was capable of admitting, though somehow didn’t need to. Like with her emotions, he already understood and remained by her side, vehemently refusing to leave her vulnerable in her moments of weakness.

“Next year will be better,” she vowed quietly, only pulling back enough to meet Madara’s gaze. “I can feel it.”

He nodded once, leaving no room for arguments when he also vowed, “I will make sure of it.”

She blushed at that because accompanied with the intensity of his dark eyes, Sakura had no choice but to believe it would happen. Next year would be their year, it would be the start of their family. And she promised to the Gods every day that she would cherish and protect that rainbow baby who’d yet to be created with every fibre of her being, just as she knew her lover would too.

It wasn’t until much later that night that she fell back onto the plush rug in front of the fire, feet aching with relief as they _finally_ finished the living room.

The tree was nothing short of magnificent, and Sakura smiled at the approval in Madara’s eyes as he reclined beside her, taking a sip of his own wine (he didn’t care for Christmas, but he appreciated hard work and never went into anything half-assed). To accompany the tree were matching twinkling bright white lights around the room and while she’d previously believed them to contradict the warmth of the fire, taking away from it, they worked incredibly with her white and silver decorations situated around the place, so she forgave them without a second thought.

A luxuriously thick garland adorned the fireplace shelf, sprinkled with fake snow and dotted with silver holly berries and opposite it, above the archway leading to the hall, was a matching wreath.

“It’s perfect,” she murmured, looking to the silver wooden Merry Christmas banner hanging across the bay window.

The ceilings in their old home were high enough to deny the banner the chance to disturb or obstruct the view of the tree – it didn’t even come close to the light up ribbon that replaced the tired old star that used to live atop of it – making it more of a frame. To make the picture just that little bit more perfect, snowflake stickers were placed on the windows (she hoped that they would be graced with real snow that year, though was happy enough with the stickers if it didn’t happen).

Lost in the wondrous moment, Sakura didn’t hesitate to turn her head in Madara’s direction, his mind already thinking along the same tracks as they met halfway in a slow kiss that didn’t need the help of the fire to be as warm as it was.

After their loss, it was safe to say she’d struggled being intimate with her lover. Just the thought used to fill her with dread, used to bombard her mind with images of their darling son’s still face. But like with everything else, despite never mentioning it, Madara understood and he didn’t push her. Contrary to what many believed, with her, he was never heartless or cold.

And when she inevitably froze the moment it grew more heated, the moment he’d lowered her to the ground and covered her body with his own, Madara didn’t hesitate in standing up and dragging her along with him.

Having sex wasn’t impossible for them. They’d had sex several times since their loss, but sometimes, it hurt emotionally. Sometimes, she got inside her own head and fell victim to those horrific memories and thoughts, allowing them to turn all intimate moments negative because she was too scared to move on from them.

No, sex wasn’t impossible. But getting started was often difficult, if she was given even the tiniest of chances to _think._

Was that why he started dancing, she wondered? Smiling, Sakura relaxed into his hold once more, the gentle swaying warming her heart because Madara was anything but gentle. He wasn’t sentimental. Yet, for her, he tried.

So, she tried for him, too.

For them.

The music was much too joyful and upbeat for their dancing, though it certainly didn’t ruin the moment. Instead, she simply imagined older, slower music playing in the background. She imagined jazz or classical, since the former was one of Madara’s favourite genres.

Their next kiss was fiercer, Sakura found with a sigh of happiness and arousal, and he left no room for her straying mind as he gripped at her body, keeping it against his, their hips creating minds of their own as they moved in time with the beat in their heads. It worked her up easily, and she shrugged out of her nightshirt when Madara popped open the buttons, aiding him in a quicker removal.

When they returned to the thick rug in front of the fire, it was completely naked and Sakura shifted restlessly in response to the relentless tongue that worked on her, fingers seamlessly threading through Madara’s wild hair, hips bucking into his mouth.

He started out with fiery intensity that left her quivering and desperate for orgasm, but once he knew he had her hooked, Madara shifted to teasing swipes, pace slowing considerably to the point where Sakura was certain he was trying to drive her insane.

But like she ever had control, she thought with a smirk, not at all upset by that fact. It was the lack of control that appealed to her and Sakura never hesitated in handing it all over to him.

It wasn’t until she was coming undone beneath him that Madara shifted upwards once more, his fingers taking over without pause, mouth finding hers and sharing her essence. Tongues twisting, hips unsteady in their attempt to match his rhythm, nails digging into his well-toned biceps, she did all she could to secure herself to him while riding out her orgasm.

_Gods, she loved him._

The sensation of her skin almost burning had nothing to do with the fire they were in front of and everything to do with the man situating himself between her thighs, coaxing one to hook over his hip, the other pinned to her shoulder.

And then, so smoothly it was like the past year had never happened, Madara slid inside of her, his low groan meeting hers as their lips collided, hands shaky but insistent as they held onto one another. He guided her into a gentle rock first, the tenderness of his thrusts as astonishing to her as always – even four years into their relationship, because Uchiha Madara was not a gentle man. It was as though the man he’d been when they first met in the ER, and the man he was now four years down the line, were two startlingly different entities. Yet he’d vowed to never hurt her and lived up to that promise, even with a frightening reputation that told her otherwise.

It wasn’t soon enough when his pace increased, when the harshness of their bodies colliding left her scrambling for something to hold onto before settling on her lover. Angry red marks trailed down his arms and back, the sting of her scratches causing his head to tip back, upper lip curling and in return, he brought her to him more forcefully.

He moved back on his haunches but much to her utter joy, brought her with him, refusing to allow their hips to be separated for longer than a second. The position was uncomfortable, what with her shoulders being the only part of her body to remain on the ground, however that was easily forgotten about when tightened his grip on her hips, his rapid thrusts leaving her lightheaded because _Gods,_ she’d missed being fucked by him. And being the romantic that she was, catching glimpses of the Christmas decorations they’d put up together and laying in front of the fire, only heightened her emotions in that moment, intensifying it and just making it so much _better._

Their Christmas was going to be spectacular, of that she was certain.

* * *

And it was.

No, it was more than spectacular.

Exhaling slowly to calm the nerves that suddenly exploded in her stomach, Sakura met her reflection’s eye and admired the flush on her skin, the excitement in her gaze.

_It was Christmas morning._

Madara was downstairs brewing tea while she prepared herself for a day of muted festivities with his traditional family (the only saving grace being that she adored her lover, who happened to also be related to her childhood best friend), though the latter was only _after_ they opened their gifts for one another.

Sakura had tried her hardest to keep herself busy that morning while waiting for a response. She’d done it, then being too scared to actually read it afterwards, had styled her hair and done her makeup, then because she was _still terrified_ because the godawful sting that accompanied the negative was devastating, had proceeded to get dressed.

But now she had nothing left to do.

Fingertips tapping restlessly on the marble topped counter, Sakura’s eyes threatened to fill with tears.

A knock on the door broke her concentration, however just as he opened the door, her gaze fell to the test laying before her, the results of her test leaving her breathless for several long moments.

“Sakura.”

No, her Christmas wasn’t only spectacular.

It was a miracle.

“One door closed,” she announced through her tears, holding up her test to reveal their positive, to announce their rainbow baby. “But we already broke down the next one.”

Madara smirked, his eyes warming.

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case there's a few who aren't aware: a rainbow baby is a baby conceived after a miscarriage or stillbirth, or the death of an infant.
> 
> Also, I'm still a bit meh when it comes to writing Madara, so I'm sorry if he's OOC!


End file.
